


Pretty

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Dom Hux, sub Kylo [11]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Lingerie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:36:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Hux loves to dress nicely.





	

There is nothing wrong with women, not really. They need a little extra in the budget for health and sanitation, but that’s offset by their marginally lower calorie intake. The extra material required to cover curves is offset, again, by their traditionally less tall frames. (Captain Phasma is an outlier, but frankly, she’s such an effective worker that Hux would approve of her being another foot tall to keep her on his side.) 

They’re pretty much like men, and so he’s perfectly happy with his ranks swollen by their numbers. True, the Empire had sidelined them, but the Empire had fallen and the Order had risen and he wanted the Order to continue to rise. 

Hux doesn’t really want to invite any into his rooms, but that’s just sexual preference. His interest lies in big, strong, sculpted chests. (Perhaps Phasma might just hold his focus, if he ever needed it.) Nice, bulky upper arms. Broad hands. Treasure trails down. Asses and thighs that could break his body with a squeeze. Oh yes. He is shallow, and he _loves_ that kind of built, fierce physique; the kind he could never have for himself. 

Hux is not female. Hux is most assuredly not female. 

He does, however, like their… ahem. Intimate options. Just because they look so damn nice. It’s a private thing, and one he has no shame in indulging because it doesn’t affect his day to day activities, and because his AT-AT of a boyfriend lights up whenever he disrobes. 

Through the day, the tight embrace of an underbust corset has kept his spine straight, his breathing measured. He knows better than to tight-lace when exertion might be on the cards, but a minor binding that keeps him in that mindspace, constantly aware of (and pleased with) his body is wonderful. The silky feel of the lacy panties barely covering his cock, the nudge of the string between his cheeks. The snug feel of silky, seamed and glossy fabric around his thighs… 

Kylo sits on the couch, watching him. Hux is nursing the glass of brandy, swirling it, smelling the broken grain and sharp light captured within. His Knight, mask removed, doesn’t blink when he makes a show of swallowing down the last finger, and takes the glass when he holds it out. 

“More?”

“Not yet.”

He pulls the buttons at his collar, prising open the layers, letting himself bare by degrees. Open, then down, falling to the carpet and leaving his hugged-tight torso bare. 

Kylo’s mouth opens, then clamps shut. 

Perfect. 

Hux takes his time removing his belt and slacks, stepping out and standing proud with stockinged legs rising from his spitshined boots. Up, up go Kylo’s eyes to the lacy bundle cupping his manhood, warm and cozy. The silky fabric is a perpetual tease, and Hux reaches behind him, flicking out the central bone of his corset. It’s designed for this, and he snaps his wrist to open up the cane to full extension. 

“Hux, I–”

“Shut up,” he snaps, whacking at his lover’s knee. 

The point of the switch nudges into his Knight’s chest, pushing Kylo back into the seat. Hux holds it there as he stretches to feel the edge of his motion like this, eyes closing as he breathes deeply and relishes the burn. 

“You’re beautiful,” Kylo says, his voice low and starving. 

“I know,” Hux agrees. 

He gets himself ready, then sashays closer, dragging the switch up over Kylo’s chest. The edge traces his neck, across his lips. Eyes that hum, and then he puts the band across the back of his neck to hold him in place as he puts his nipples to the man’s lips to demand kisses. Kisses, lapping, and the appropriate worship that he deserves. He kneels, straddling him for more, then - when he’s had enough - he shoves away and snaps the switch to Kylo’s cheek. 

“You’re such a horny little slut,” Hux croons. 

“For you, yes.”

“Tell me what you want. I want to hear your filthy daydreams.”

Kylo’s eyes gleam, and his lower lip pulls in before he replies. “Want you to sit on my face. Want you to smother me with your cock. Want you to trample all over me. Want you to bend me over your knee and crop me until I cry.”

All good. Hux grins. “Is that all?”

“…want you to bend me over and use me. Fuck me so hard I scream. Want… want you to come all over my back, and then stuff your panties in my mouth while you crop my cock until I can’t take any more. Want… want…”

“Want me to call you a filthy slut when you come?”

Kylo’s eyes avert, the smallest of nods. 

“You know you’re such a little cockslut, don’t you? Such a horny little shit. You want me to walk all over you, until you come anyway? Probably don’t even need any nice touches, you pain-obsessed freak.”

Another nod. Wilder. Desperate. 

“Get me another drink.” It sounds like fun.


End file.
